On The Inside, Baby, It’s True

Recently, the more I speak to people – some new and some I’ve known a while – the more I hear about feelings of varying degrees of depression and anxiety. And when I scroll down things like Facebook feeds, I feel it too. Understandably, we use such mediums to reflect a version of ourselves that we want the world to see, but in doing that we fail to show the beauty of our own imperfections – our humanity. In our low moments we strive harder to hide what’s really going on with glossy façades not realising the damage that we’re doing to ourselves and to each other. So, in said moments, we’re failing to support each other. I, too, am not very good at talking to others about how I feel inside, so instead I made the following – because it’s ok to not feel ok all the time. It’s human.

(You can listen or read or both at the same time!)

It’s in my head and it’s in my chest

It’s in my stomach as well

A big deep dark cavernous pit and I can’t get rid of it

And it aches

All the time it aches and I feel sick

Why does it hurt so much if it’s not even real?

I go about trying to fill it, right

Up to the top with whatever I can

But it doesn’t get full

Try harder. No, harder! Still not full

I don’t understand why it never gets full

Am I dying?

It feels like I am when I proper think about it

My body needs more than just this – this isn’t right

We’re not meant to feel like this, are we?

Are people supposed to live in the way that I do?

I don’t know anyone else who does, so I must be doing it wrong, but I can’t fix it

Not for the lack of trying. I do do that

I’m just left all the time. Just left

To hide away and curl up

Like a little cat all cosy and sleepy never wanting to wake up

I drift outside of myself and look down at me there

And then I realise – I’m feeding the pit

It’s getting bigger inside

Take a breath

I am alive!

I do know what happiness feels like

I probably know what love too feels like too

So what am I doing, feeding the fucking cave?

Growing and pruning it like some kind of master landscape artist

Weaving a stupidly complicated tapestry of utter sadness

I wanna scream! Can I scream?

Of course I can’t fucking scream, I’m not a yob

Suppress that too and chuck it in the pit

Is this what depression feels like?

I’m not depressed

I am full actually – I must be

Everyday I’m shoving stuff in so I must be

I’m alive filling up my caves

With all kinds…

Of hollow shit

Sad broken hollow shits up to the brim of the pits

What is all of this?

I thought I was an expert at whatever it is I’m doing, but I’ve got it all wrong, haven’t I?

I’m going about it all wrong

I do need change

I need to change

I just need

Please love me

Noooo, not that, never that. Jesus, will you stop with that already!!

“Love yourself, think about yourself, do shit for yourself…”

I hate selfishness more than anything else in the world so why the fuck would I go and do that?

D’you know what I’ll do with that piece of pesky advice? Shove it the pit while you go fuck yourself

I don’t need any of this! I’m alright

I’ll keep my empty caves inside and keep a sense of pride at the same time